Of Snape and Horses and Failed Charms
by Equus-Forever
Summary: A humorous medley: while Harry and other third-fifth years must take riding lessons with Snape, Neville is having horrible trouble in Charms class! Set in fourth year, but ignores most GoF canon and rewrites PoA see Ch. 1 . Critical reviews discouraged.


_(For the sake of not having anything interfere with my story (i.e., just making it a funny story about riding lessons with Snape and Neville "failing" Charms, this is told SEMI-AU\non-canon. Harry has defeated Voldemort in the third year and he is untroubled during the fourth year. Any major events from GoF do not apply. Minor changes may also occur.)_

The Great Hall of Hogwarts castle, its Gothic windows full of pale, golden morning light, was full of good smells. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley made their way to the Gryfinndor table, breathing in the warm smells of bacon, sausage, eggs, and spices. Harry and Ron, in their fourth year at the magical school, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sank down and grinned as the breakfast magically appeared on golden plates. Ron quickly began piling sausage onto a pile of scrambled eggs promptly coated the whole mess with ketchup.

Yes, this was routine; breakfast, the promise of classes, the chatter of students, Ron experimenting with new ways of inviting indigestion in the morning. Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose and sighed in relief. This fourth year promised to be better than ever. He'd attended the Quidditch World Cup--there was nothing more exciting than a game played on flying broomsticks! He'd defeated the dark lord, Voldemort, the most evil wizard in centuries, last year. It was a long story, one, he wanted to put behind him...

"Mht mmo myuu dyig dwil dav din dwarms duday?" Ron mumbled through a mouthful of sausage.

"_What?_" Harry asked.

Ron swallowed, pausing to wipe a blob of ketchup from his red-orange hair. "What do you think we'll have in Charms today?"

"Not another Cheering Charm, I hope!" Harry joked, remembering when he'd overdone practicing that charm on Ron, and his friend had been escorted to the hospital ward, startling students with his fits of hysterical laughter.

Ron snorted into his oatmeal. Next to him, their mutual friend, Hermione Granger, who was the best student of their year--possibly of the entire school--shook her head. The boys almost expected one of her well-meant but bossy lectures on what might have gone wrong with the charm, but she looked almost bemused. She had what she called a "brain-powering meal" on her plate; a bowl of oatmeal, a small pile of scrambled eggs, and a cup of fruit. She returned to her meal, but all students were startled from their eating, conversation, or thinking by a sharp rapping of a fork on a metal goblet. The stern face of the school headmistress, Minerva McGonagall, looked out upon them from beneath her emerald-green witch's hat.

"And now," the school's headmistress suddenly announced from the faculty and staff table, "it is my distinct pleasure to announce something grand--we are renewing a Hogwarts tradition."

Usually announcements were at dinner. Ron looked apprehensive, Harry confused, Hermione expectant. A low murmur filled the room, silenced immediately by one glance from the stern, thin McGonagall.

"Select third through fifth years are going to learn how to ride horses," she announced. "We are going to restore the tradition of jousting...demonstrative only," she warned some eager-looking students.

"_Whhaaa_?" Lee Jordan's intake of air sounded like a deflating balloon.

"It is a non-magical but medieval tradition from the time when magic _was_ more dominant," the headmistress almost crooned, proudly. "Thus, it is being brought back! Select third through fifth years shall take lessons."

Ron gasped, Hermione's eyes widened, and Harry smiled a twisted smile.

"And the students are," McGonagall began, "Hannah Abbot, Padma Patil, Draco Malfoy..."

She continued, ticking off about five more students. "And finally, Harry Potter and Grace O'Malley."

"And the reason I announce it at breakfast," she added, "is because..." She paused, and, strangely enough, glanced nervously at a black-robed teacher. Then she continued, plunging on. "You may have a _more disciplined time in Potions today_. Anyway, lessons are on the Quidditch field at three o'clock on Saturday." she resumed crisply.

Harry felt his sausages churn in his stomach at the veiled warning in Minerva McGonagall's words. "She can't mean..."

"...Snape is a _riding teacher?_" Hermione, to the amazement of several students, looked like she was going to burst into laughter. "Sorry, Harry. But him. On a horse!"

"Ah, but Hermione. That'll be a right horrid thing, to be on a horse near him." Grace O'Malley said faintly in her Irish brogue, looking pale.

Charms class couldn't come fast enough. All Harry wanted to do was get his mind off the fact that he'd be learning to ride horses with Snape as a teacher. He barged into the classroom with Ron and met a smiling Professor Flitwick, who had the enormous spellbook already open on the large, antiquated teachers' desk and was beaming broadly at them all.

"Today, we are going to learn the Peaceful Charm," Professor Flitwick squeaked. "Can anyone tell me how that differs from a Cheering Charm in its results?"

Grace O'Malley's hand shot up _before_ Hermione's. "It produces a more soothing, quieting result. It can aid in sleep or relaxation if properly used. It possible side effects are less harmful than in the Cheering Charm, though it must still be used in moderation."

Hermione looked deflated. Harry was partnered with Grace, who perfomed the charm brilliantly. He was still worried about Snape, really worried, but there was no point in moping. If that greasy git wanted to persecute him when he learned to ride, he thought with just mild irritation, he'd fuss about it then. He still felt a mild sense of worry, but really! The key to attacking his worry was in sorting out the source and trying to relax, he thought reasonably, and settled down contentedly. Unfortunately (to him), since Grace had performed the charm so well, it lasted just ten minutes. Fellow fourth year Neville Longbottom, sad to relate, was not having such luck trying the charm on a Hufflepuff student called Michael Sloane. The round-faced boy overdid the Peaceful Charm as badly as Harry had once done that fateful Cheering Charm.

"Michael, what's with you, man?" a ruddy-faced lad who was obviously Michael's friend frowned. Michael was sitting at the desk, a wide, dreamy smile on his high-boned face, nodding happily.

"Nothing at all!" Michael replied angelically, his voice high and sweet. "Isn't life wonderful?"

"Did you hear," the ruddy-faced boy said acidly, hoping to throw Michael out of the gone-wrong spell, "that Cornelius Fudge wants to ban that new book series that involves a witch girl showing a lonely Muggle boy some simple magic?"

"That's lovely! Fudge is always looking out for us!"

"But you're _huge on free speech and indepedent fiction_!"

"Am I? Well, we all must roll with the flow."

"By the way, isn't that so scary, that Morbidus Stone? nearly succeeded using a curse _against DEMENTORS_!"

Several students shuddered or screeched; one dropped a vial of hibiscus leaf juice. They had tried to forget about that frightful article in yesterday's _Daily Prophet_. _Nortorius recent criminal, Mormidus Stone, accused and convicted of "cleansing" Edinburgh of several Muggles in the past two months, was finally arrested. At Azkaban he used fearful wandless magic and used a curse once thought lost, which nearly worked on the dementors, to try and get away. Morbidus Stone is set to have the Dementor's Kiss performed tomorrow, but fears of his terrible power, hinted at, have raised wizard and witch protests for an earlier sentence..._

"It's very frightening to some," Michael said sweetly. "But it'll come right, I'm sure..."

"Ugh!" squeaked Professor Flitwick. "I guess I must escort Michael to the hospital wing..."

Harry groaned. He wondered how he'd do in his riding class with Snape. As well as Neville in Charms?


End file.
